


Getting Closer

by Basched



Series: Past Present Future [2]
Category: Primeval
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fight Sex, First Time, Humour, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Slash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 03:54:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basched/pseuds/Basched
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two weeks after their spar, things get awkward again...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Part two of my Past/Present/Future series. Read before the A trilogy. Not beta'd so there will be mistakes. Enjoy.

The towel flew through the air and whacked Matt right in the face before dropping into his hands. Thankful for the towel, but not in the way it had been thrown at him, Matt wiped the sweat from his face and patted down the rest of his body.

 

He was going to have some more bruises to add to his collection, but it was worth it. It had been two weeks since the tussle in the gym and this time—and the other times that had followed—had been just as it was; a simple sparing match; to train and keep up their fitness levels, nothing more. There hadn't been any repeats of that first wrestle, no awkward reactions nor were there embarrassing onlookers catching them in compromising positions.

 

It was hard physical battling, it was primal and instinctual and Matt had never felt more alive and alert since he left his own time. The training he had received-from such a young age-was vital for survival against the predators that had ravaged the world. Any survivors from his time had to be strong if they were to live in that hell. He was the best…it was why he was able travel back through the anomalies.

 

With Becker, he couldn't quite find that edge which had always made him victorious in the past or rather the future. Becker wasn't one of those mal-formed predators or other creatures he had to face, but he couldn't beat him.

 

"Thanks."

 

As the towel wiped down over his face, Anderson blinked the sweat from his eyes and looked to where Becker was pulling some fresh clothes from his bag. He saw the bottle of shower gel and the shampoo and when the younger man picked them up, Matt's abdomen suddenly clenched as he realised that Becker was planning on going to the same place he was.

 

"For what? Lettin' you win again?" he joked nervously.

 

The guffaw of laughter from the Captain was a sound Matt didn't hear often and when he did, it was contagious.

 

"Letting me win! Ha! Yeah, right!"

 

The dark haired Englishman shook his head not believing his superior's witty excuse for losing and ruffled his short black hair spraying droplets of sweat. Some of the drops hit Matt in the face and he had to wipe the towel over him again, but the tightening in his stomach now grew lower as he breathed in the musky heavy scent of his partner.

 

 _Damn it. Not again._

 

Was being in such close contact with Becker the reason he was losing focus? Matt trained with others on his team, with other soldiers and not one of them made him like this. None of them threw him off balance. It was all Becker.

 

Matt's stinging eyes flickered downwards; he flinched as after a few seconds he realised he was looking straight at the area between Becker's legs—and experiencing a very strong liking. He could feel the sweat pouring off him, the rapid pulse of his blood and pumping of his heart, his hands were twitching, trembling, and he cussed himself when there were no obvious or similar reactions from Becker.

 

 _"You're being a complete eejit, Matt,"_ he thought to himself, tearing his gaze away from the slick muscled torso of the other man and grabbing his bag from the floor. _"It's not about him…it's the fight. You're acting like this because of the adrenalin from the fight. It's the tussle what's getting you all heated up. Becker's a mate and a bloke…you don't…you're not…damn it! You haven't ever been!"_

 

It took but a tiny downward slip of Becker's waistband—as Hilary loosened the ties securing them—to make Matt groan. He caught sight of the strong hard lines of Becker's pelvic bones and the glimpse of the dark teasing line of hair made the handles of his bag slip through his fingers as he fell against the wall. His hands slapped against the hard surface to support him. He didn't understand; none of this was making sense. Why now? Why at all?

 

"Are…are you okay?" asked Becker, his fingers touching ever so lightly against Matt's shoulder. He felt the Captain's calloused pads graze over the first ever scar he got—the name of the creature that gave it to him, when he was barely eight years old, escaped him—and a jolt blissfully burnt down his arm and spine. The younger man's palm cupped over the ball of his shoulder and squeezed. "I think I gave you more than you could handle this time, Matt. You're getting sloppy."

 

"I'm fine!" he snapped back, just a little too harshly. He lightly shrugged off Becker's hand and reached back for his bag. He took some calming breaths and spoke more softly. "I'm not getting sloppy. I'm easing off a little, for your sake. I don't want t' hurt you."

 

Matt managed to pick up his bag and his top and headed for the exit. He wasn't going to wait around, not when he was experiencing the strange sensations around and for Becker. He had to focus on his mission, he couldn't be distracted like this.

 

"Easing off?" Becker laughed. "Hurt me? Matt, that's not possible because why?—oh yeah— I'm the better fighter! You can make up excuses for losing against me, but it doesn't change the fact that…you…suck."

 

"Oh damn. Bad choice of words." 

 

Matt's eyes screwed tightly shut and he shook his head. They could never have an ordinary conversation, unless it was on or about a job. All Matt and Becker could exchange were jibes, banter, insults and sarcastic remarks…which were most of the time very amusing. Now it was uncomfortable and Matt couldn't stop it. He turned round and sure enough Becker was standing with his legs apart, arms folded across his puffed out bare chest and a look of smugness on his sweat soaked face. If the soldier noticed the pitch below, Matt couldn't tell, all that mattered was he come back with an equally witty retort.

 

"You're the better fighter?" Matt felt his voice might have been a little too high. "Now that's crazy!"

 

"So much for the witty retort, Matt. That was pathetic." 

 

"It's true," Becker was loving it. His grin was wider and now he was rocking happily back and forth on the soles of his feet. "It has been proven over and over again by the countless times I've wiped this gym floor with you."

 

"Do you want to go again?" He couldn't let the comment slide. Every time Becker made this kind of remark, he couldn't just leave alone and walk away. Anderson dropped the bag and pointed at the red padded crash mat. "I can go another round, Becker and this time it'll be you that's polishing the floor!"

 

"Oh yeah? Come on then!" Becker opened out his arms and egged his opponent on with the wiggle of his fingers. "Show me what you've got."

 

"Last time you said that to me…I shot you."

 

The brief grimace on Becker's face showed that he didn't like remembering that incident and he took a swing at Matt. Anderson dodged and laughed.

 

The rush of sparing again was boiling inside of him. He felt invigorated, pumped and fuelled at the prospect of another workout and he could tell Becker was feeling the same way. Matt was determined that this time, he was going to show the smug git who was the better fighter.

 

Unfortunately, they never got the chance to continue. The bleeping sound from Anderson's bag made his fist stop in mid swing and Becker even stood back as he retrieved his beeper. The message both pleased and angered him.

 

"Arse! Sorry, Becker…this will have to wait. Lester beckons."

 

"He needs help to shift that stick from up his backside?"

 

Matt sniggered and had to hold a boisterous laugh in with his hand as a devious glint shone in Becker's eyes. The twenty seven year old then mimed shoving a stick up an imaginary Lester's anus. Matt had to get out of the gym right away…his hand clamped tighter round his mouth and he scooped up his bag as he rushed back to the doors.

 

Anderson was a man who didn't show his emotions often…in the future, there wasn't much to laugh about when your life was a constant battle to stay alive. When Matt first came to this time, tensions between the two males on the team were high, but they eventually grew to tolerate one another. Now, Becker made him laugh more than anyone because of their "petty" squabbling, as Jess had put it. This newly gained friendship and toleration was wearing thin, but for completely different reasons.

 

"Oi! You're going to his office like that?"

 

Matt looked down. Going half naked and stinking to high heaven wasn't going to please Lester one bit. However, when another towel landed on his face, Matt pulled it off to see Becker striding towards the locker room and showers, laughing in that smug way of his.

 

He froze. The prospect of a shower was always welcome to Matthew Anderson. His world was a mixture of arid and toxic desert and desolate wastelands with crumbled remains of once huge cities and towns, so finding clean water to drink—let alone wash with—was a blessing. Here, where people bathed every day in fresh clean water, was a luxury beyond all he could imagine.

 

The thought of having a shower now…was not a blessing as his eyes fixated on Becker. He felt the flush and ache of his body and when he screwed his eyes shut, all he could see was himself; naked as hot water gushed over his skin and muscles. He could feel every contour of Becker's body slamming hard against his back, his hands pinning him to the tiled wall as they struggled for dominance. He felt Becker's mouth devouring at his neck, his breath panting, his teeth biting into his shoulder and the pain increasing as Becker shoved into him with a quick hard thrust.

 

The images and sounds, the sensations, nearly made his legs give out. He tried to shake it off, but it didn't help. Matt's breathing became spluttering chokes. No…he would not have a shower at the same time as Becker, not when he imagined what relief the Captain's hands could give him.

 

"You coming down with something?" asked Becker, concern now lilting his voice as Matt tried to steady himself against the wall. There was no play or jeer in his voice, Becker was actually worried. "Did I hit you too hard in that last bout? I can pull my punches next time…"

 

"I'm fine. Thank you, Becker. I think a break from this will do us both good." He looked up and smiled at his sparring partner, which was enough to ease the concern behind those brown eyes. Becker bobbed his head, satisfied that his boss was okay and edged away from Matt.

 

Anderson was pleased for the space and was finally able to find the strength in his legs and walked out of the gym. The stairs leading up to the rest of the ARC complex were a welcome sight indeed and when a still shaking foot touched on the first step, he paused.

 

He had to look over his shoulder. He had to see Becker lugging his belongings along the corridor towards the showers, swaggering in that confident annoying way he did, whistling happily to himself. Why did this man have to do this to him?

 

"Give Lester my regards!" Becker called out from down the corridor.

 

"Y'want me to give him chocolates and flowers as well?"

 

_"Why the fuck did you say that?"_

 

All he heard in reply was Becker's laugh echoing down the corridor.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

When he had first walked through the doors of the ARC, Matt had received uninviting looks from everyone he passed. None of them had liked the idea of Cutter and Danny being replaced, especially by someone they didn't know or by someone who had very little back round. They had glared at him…suspicious and untrusting. Now as he headed to Lester's office, Matt was receiving more looks, but they weren't of mistrust or hate.

 

"He's not going to like it."

 

Jess suddenly appeared at his side—as if by magic—clutching a clipboard to her chest. The pink fluffy cardigan she had on today, clashed a little with the skirt and the vibrantly sickening pink shoes. The pink rose clip in her hair was distracting as well, but it didn't matter. It was who she was. Jess radiated sunshine, her smile could blind people and they wouldn't mind. Everyone liked her.

 

Now, her cute little nose was wrinkled up in disgust.

 

"You've been sparring with Becker again, haven't you?" she took a deep whiff and nearly gagged. "Ugh! You could have showered…Lester really won't like the stench!"

 

"No time…" Matt smiled softly and then looked at the large wet patches on his body soaking through his t-shirt. He breathed a huge sigh of relief when he found that his arousal problem had lessened considerably. "Besides, Becker is…"

 

"I get it." Matt saw Jess bite her bottom lip and she tried to look innocent as she gazed up at the ceiling. "Don't want people thinking the wrong thing."

 

"Now what's that supposed to mean?" Matt knew full well Jess was teasing him. She had been teasing the both of them ever since Jess saw them locked together on the floor two weeks ago. Though with Jess…it wasn't ever spiteful and Matt couldn't hate her for it.

 

"Nothing!" she sing-songed and giggled. "Well I don't know what men get up to in the showers together! Haven't a clue!"

 

Matt groaned which resulted in Jess giving him a playful slap on his shoulder. She grimaced a little as her palm got covered in his sweat.

 

"I'm only joking. You know that, right? I mean you and Becker? That's just silly isn't it?"

 

_"Oh yeah. Very silly. Wouldn't be possible in a million years, so why am I getting bloody erections thinking about him?"_

 

Matt nodded and tried to appear convincing for the young woman. It was clear and obvious she had a big crush for the Captain and for all Matt knew Becker returned that affection. Maybe.

 

His gut felt as if it was being twisted.

 

_"Oh great. Now you're jealous?"_

 

"Look, Lester's not happy as it is." Jess whispered, oblivious to his discomfort. "A shower really would be a good idea."

 

"He'll complain if I do or don't, Jess. It's just him. 'Sides, do I really smell that bad?"

 

Matt lifted his arm closest to Jess up and took a sniff. Jess laughed.

 

"Very manly and at the same time very gross?"

 

"Thank you so much."

 

He bowed in jest and Jess did the same, before he approached the glass office. Jess saw the door open and close and saw the immediate look of revulsion upon Lester's face. She counted down with her fingers.

 

"Three…two…one."

 

The door opened and Matt strolled out, laughing quietly to himself. All the lab techs working at their benches were distracted from their work as their boss' voice carried through the room.

"Good gods man! Have some decency to bathe next time I ask you here! Go and get cleaned up and we can discuss things later! And who designed this place? Are windows or adequate ventilation too much to ask for?"

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Matt waited fifteen minutes before heading to the showers. It was plenty of time whilst Becker washed and got dressed, so Matt assumed the Captain would probably be checking the armoury and shouting at the junior soldiers by now.

 

He didn't notice Becker's things still sitting on the bench as he stripped himself free from his sweat drenched clothes. He didn't think the Captain would still be washing as he wrapped a towel around his waist and strolled towards the shower bays.

 

It didn't take him long to realise Becker was there. He heard Becker's voice and the sound of running water…steam filled and slickened the tiled corridor, misting up the mirrors by the sinks. It was sweltering. It was also, very difficult to focus.

 

"You stupid git!" Becker's voice snapped through the steam, catching Matt off guard. His foot slipped and he only managed to prevent his fall by grabbing onto the rim of a sink. "Show me what you've got? You fucking bloody idiot!"

 

A guttural moan from Becker made Matt's abdomen clench painfully. The pleasured growl ran right though him and his muscles spasmed at such a delectable sound. He gasped, trying to hold in a moan of his own.

 

_"Leave. Leave now and go the botany lab. You like the botany lab, Becker doesn't go there."_

 

Becker moaned again, long with short intermittent stuttering gasps of breath. The jet of water splashed, disturbed by the movement of Becker beneath it. A foot slipped and squeaked on the floor, another long moan was followed by pants and whispers.

 

"Oh god, what am I doing?"

 

Matt was drawn forward. He reached out a hand and crept it along the top of the wall that enclosed around the shower bays as he walked. Through the steam he caught sight of Becker; he was leaning his right forearm against the wall and resting a wearied head on his arm. The water was pouring over his head, cascading over his shoulders, down his spine and dripping off the round clenching curves of his buttocks.

 

With his legs parted in a wide stance and his left arm hidden mostly from Matt's view, it wasn't difficult to figure out what he was doing. Matt watched Becker slowly stroke himself, his fist sliding delicately over his shaft, and instantly he felt his own stiffen again.

 

He didn't understand at all, why his body was reacting so strongly to this other man or that he was filled with urges to go over to Becker and help him. Matt could quite easily walk away, but the sight of Becker masturbating beneath that shower, prevented him from doing so. It was fear of what was going through Becker's mind that stopped Matt from going over to him and helping with the release.

 

"Fuck! What's the matter with you?"

 

His towel slipped down, his hands began to shake, his fingers were itching to grab hold of himself as well, but he couldn't stop looking at Becker. He couldn't shut out the sounds of the Captain's jerks and his heaving breathing.

 

_"Emily…think of her. Think how much you miss her…not Becker."_

 

"Matt!"

 

His name heaved from Becker's lips along with another pleasured moan and it was the final straw. It was too bizarre but Matt found himself slowly walking round the wall and standing behind him. Becker seemed oblivious to Matt's presence as his hand continued to pump on his cock, muttering words only when he had the breath to do so.

 

Matt waited just for the right time and as he stepped forward again, the spray of the shower covering him, he placed a gentle hand on Becker's shoulder.

 

"Oh shit." Becker slipped his hand away and smacked it against the wall. "Matt…"

 

He slowly turned round and the two of them looked at each other through the torrent of water. This was beyond awkward, but Matt's hand didn't leave Becker's shoulder nor did Becker push him away. There was fear in his eyes, along with a want that Matt clearly recognised. He felt it himself.

 

Becker went to say something…his mouth opened to speak but instead he bowed his head and tried to back away. Matt stopped him, his fingers gripped harder at Becker's shoulder and he leant forward and rested his forehead against his.

 

He felt Becker's breath on his face along with the spit-spray of water with every exhale and he was shaking. He was trembling so much Matt could feel it through the closeness of their bodies.

 

He didn't ask, but he knew it was okay when Becker's own hand rested in the middle of Matt's back. Oh god…this is it. 

 

"Becker…"

 

He took a hold.

 

Too close. This is far too close…

 

His hand began to move.


	2. Getting Closer II

_"You…you want to spar again…sometime?"_

 

Becker didn't know why he asked that. When he pinned Matt down between his legs, feeling him wriggling to break free, the reaction had been instant. The blood had pulsed through his veins during the scrap…but when that backside bolted up into his groin, when his fingers slipped over the wet bare flesh, all that blood had hardened him quicker than he had ever recalled in his life.

 

The body beneath had sent his own beyond crazy. All rational and coherent thought, all his training, seemed to vacate his head and he felt like he was going to explode.

 

It was Matt Anderson, the man who he had been so determined to hate when they first met. The man who he didn't want to like but who eventually showed what a good leader—and friend—he actually was. This was his mate…his boss…a man he trusted with his life and he wanted to screw him senseless?

 

The urges scared him, but if Jess and those soldiers hadn't walked in, he knew that it would have happened. The guilt twisted his stomach.

 

_"Yeah. Though let's make sure Jess doesn't conduct any more tours again, okay?"_

 

Becker had laughed though he wasn't entirely sure as to why. He didn't know if Matt was joking or if the same idea had come to mind because when they looked at each other, there was fear starring back at him.

 

Becker had been in turmoil and he would have gladly faced another horde of future predators than experience such agonizing confusion. Getting rid of the erection wasn't easy, Becker had tried not to think of the fight and of Matt, but it was precisely that which had brought him to his release. He had collapsed onto the toilet, gasping for breath and he did not feel the pleasure that normally occurred after such intense ejaculation. The rest of that day, he was in a foul mood.

 

He had avoided Matt, Jess and the rest of the team; thankfully the anomalies behaved themselves and kept quiet. So as Connor worked in his little lab doing research for Phillip and Abby tended to the Menagerie, Becker was able to complete the brief for his new men and isolate himself with his paper work.

 

He couldn't concentrate. That night he went home, declining requests from the others to join them for a drink and he ended up watching the rugby he had recorded from the telly, alone. Even his favourite sport wasn't able to alleviate his worries.

 

He couldn't stop thinking about Matt Anderson.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

"What's gotten into him?" asked Connor, as he nearly collapsed next to the anomaly. He ducked his head as one of the soldiers sealed it and then jumped out of the way when Becker stormed angrily past. "Becker…man! What's with the Die Hard attitude because that was some serious over kill!"

 

"Connor…let him be." Abby gently patted her boyfriend's back and when it looked as if Connor was going to protest, she shook her head and he immediately closed his mouth. "We all have our off days and besides he did just save us. Again."

 

"Yeah…I'm not ungrateful for that…but the last two days he has been more," Connor used the fingered air quotes. ""Becker" than usual. Y'know?"

 

"I know."

 

"I mean, he likes guns and blowing stuff up, but that what just happened there…we haven't come back with his evil twin, have we?"

 

"He hasn't got a goatee." Matt joked.

 

"That's true. What about his birthday? Did I miss his birthday?"

 

Abby shook her head.

 

"That's in about three weeks." She said. "And you'd better get him a present this time."

 

"Hey, it wasn't my fault! Sid and Nancy found where I'd hidden it and they ate…no destroyed it, completely! Erm…do you reckon we should talk to Becker and see if he'll tell us what's wrong?"

 

"Wait until he's not armed." said Matt. Connor didn't see the amused smirk Matt gave Abby and his eyes widened as he thought Becker could very well shoot him. Abby shook her head, though she couldn't help but smile as well.

 

"Yeah, maybe later." Connor nodded, satisfied with that plan of action. His hand rested on Matt's shoulder. "Can you talk to him?"

 

Only Abby saw the flash of worry in Anderson's eyes. The gentle grin faded from his face and the confident stature with which he normally held himself, dropped. As he watched Becker storm angrily to the car—slamming the door so hard that the huge black car actually shook—Abby heard Matt curse under his breath.

 

"Nice one, Matt!" Connor beamed happily. "Can you go back in Becker's car? I don't feel comfortable sitting next to him when he's all on edge an' that. Ta!"

 

Temple ran off to the second vehicle and jumped into the driver's seat. Abby didn't follow for the look of surprise and reluctance was clear on Matt's face and he was actually speechless as he looked over to Becker. No witty comment or remark? Something was wrong.

 

"Go with Connor." She said. Abby didn't want to know what was going on, but she suspected that Becker's hyper gung-ho attitude was because of Matt. The two had argued—for real—in the past, disagreed on plenty of things, but something had changed. "I'll talk to Becker."

 

He tried to hide the relief, but it was unmistakable. Abby chose to pretend she didn't see it and smiled.

 

"It might be nothing." She reassured the Irishman. "He has wanted to blow things up and shoot stuff for quite a while now. He'll be okay."

 

There was one advantage Abby had brought back from living in the Cretaceous era for a whole year and that was a damned good sense of hearing. He never meant for her to know just how relieved he was.

 

"Oh god! Thank you Abby."

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

"You need a break…that's what," said Abby, breaking the silence as Becker drove the two of them back to the ARC "when was the last time you went out and enjoyed yourself?"

 

There was the time—about a week ago—when Becker had gone to his local gun club and spent a glorious evening trying all the weapons on offer. It had been fun and Becker was contemplating going back. He felt so at peace there.

 

Abby coughed, clearing her throat. It sounded as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.

 

"I mean enjoyed yourself properly…not at the gun club."

 

The blonde zoologist knew him too well.

 

Yes he might have gone a little overboard with the explosives and the ammo on that last mission, but even the joy of blowing things up hadn't relinquished the frustration that refused to go away. Hilary couldn't get Matt out of his mind and it pissed him off. The dreams that came to him didn't exactly help either. So he woke up, went to work and came back home, always and constantly frustrated. It was never ending.

 

"When was the last time you went out with friends or…dare I even say it? On a date? With a woman?"

 

Becker slammed the breaks on a little too hard. Abby's squeal became a heartious laugh.

 

"That long huh?"

 

"Abby…do you want to walk back to the ARC?" he hissed.

 

"Sorry!" She coughed and then sincerely apologised as she remembered the last person Becker had really liked was Sarah. "But I am right, though."

 

After a few long awkward minutes of Abby staring at him, he sighed and nodded his head.

 

"It's been a while."

 

"Then you need a date, nothing fancy or serious at first, but something to help you relax. I'm sure Lester will allow you the time off. Oh! Why don't you take Jess out for a drink? You know she likes you and I think she has been trying to ask you out for a while now."

 

Jess. Sweet lovely Jess. Becker had to smile.

 

The Hub operator…the heart of the ARC, was the most adorable person Becker had ever met. She was beautiful, quirky and lively and she cared so much about others. To say she liked him was an understatement; Becker and everyone else knew that Jess was in love with him, but after Sarah's death he couldn't afford to have feelings like that again, not for anyone.

 

But Matt…Matt was different. He wasn't sure what the hell it was. It wasn't love, at least not any kind he understood.

 

"Abby…you and Connor have…" He was lost for words, he couldn't even try to describe what the pair had and what they had been through, and so he decided to concentrate on his driving. "I can't be like you and Connor. Workplace romances complicate things for us soldiers and I can't have complications when lives I'm responsible for, are at stake. I have to remain professional."

 

"You need to find someone, Becks."

 

Abby wasn't wrong. Perhaps an evening out with a woman, away from the ARC might help the sexual thoughts about Matt disappear.

 

There had been one lady—Elsa—at the gun club who had asked him out months before but he had turned down—why he didn't know—but the dark haired woman could handle a gun and she was very attractive, stunning even. He liked talking to her, comparing favourite weapons and there was something about Elsa that made him realise that perhaps she could be what he needed.

 

"Thank you Abby, for your concern."

 

"I'm just being me." She said, touching at his arm. "I worry about you."

 

"And I wouldn't have it any other way. You're a good person."

 

"Glad to hear that."

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

That night Becker had managed to get in contact with Elsa and ask her out. She was wonderful, funny, strong and so beautiful that he forgot all about his problems regarding the Irishman. Matt never even entered his mind.

 

The evening didn't go exactly as planned—a meal and a drink was all he intended for a first date—but it became much more than he had ever hoped when she had asked to go back to his place…when she asked if he had protection and practically ripped off his clothes when he said yes.

 

Becker had become enveloped in a beautiful pale silky body, hot and versatile…so full of energy that he was amazed he could keep up. Dark ebony curls of her hair bounced and thrashed in the air and in his face as he moved inside her; the feel of her breasts in his hands and mouth, the fluttering of her around him, squeezing him…he came so hard he thought his throat would burst from his screams.

 

He didn't know that he had screamed someone else's name until he saw the puzzled smirk on her face.

 

Elsa wasn't angry or disappointed but she appeared to understand what had happened, even if Becker didn't. She had gotten dressed and been very sympathetic to him as he lay in the bed cursing himself and Matt Anderson.

 

"Don't fret, Hill." She had said kissing him on the brow and heading for the door. "You were fantastic. I'm sure your friend will agree."

 

That name…that blasted name ruined everything and Becker went back to work the next day, even more stressed. The anger and frustration became too much and Becker took to the gym to try and vent it all, to do something that would stop him thinking of the other man. The weights, the punch bags, treadmill runs, even the spars with some of the other men under his command, did nothing except put a couple of the soldiers on medical leave due to injuries. His mood, his temper got worse.

 

Becker thought about taking some leave himself. A long extended holiday to get away from the Irishman might do him some good.

 

"What's your problem, Becker?"

 

Three days after his disaster of a date, Matt had finally confronted him in the gym. The punch bag may have taken a bit of a beating before, but it was literally in pieces when Matt came in this time. Becker turned away, heaving so much that his ribs were aching along with the red throbbing in his fists. The sweat was dripping off him and his skin and blood was running so hot, he really didn't need for Matt to make things worse.

 

"Fine…so you don't want to talk. Let's fight."

 

"What?" Becker spun round and grimaced.

 

"You heard! Take a punch at me. Fight me."

 

He didn't want to at first, but when he did, it was so liberating. It forced him to hold back a little but still drive a challenge for his opponent. It made him think on his tactics and moves, the power behind his punches rather than on Matt's body, his grunts and cusses. Through the fight, there weren't any stirrings, not a single twitch or ache for Matt occurred, it was great to just be able to fight with his friend, without the pressure. As they eased into the motions, attacking, dodging and counter attacking, the comfortable banter and jokes they had once shared, came back.

 

Becker felt himself again and he noticed that Matt was more open as well. So they trained and spared together regularly during the next week and a half and that in turn boosted morale for the other ARC members. The only ones who were paying visits to the medical bay were those two.

 

Then…he saw it happen.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_"Oh shit. No. Oh god no…is he looking at you?"_

 

Becker felt the waistline of his trousers slip off his hips when he untied the string that had been securing them. He saw Matt's eyes look down and then heard the groan.

 

Matt fell against the wall and looked to be shaking. No…he was just tired, beaten and weary from the fight. Becker's mind was playing tricks on him.

 

"Are you okay?" His hand closed over Matt's shoulder and it felt as if he had been scorched by Matt's skin was that hot. He squeezed his fingers tighter, his tips felt the smooth line of a long healed deep scar. "I think I gave you more than you can handle this time, Matt. You're getting sloppy."

 

"I'm not getting sloppy. I'm easing off a little, for your sake. I don't want to hurt you."

 

Becker couldn't exactly remember what happened next, but it was clear in his mind that he used some poor choice of words. They nearly went back to sparing again, stopped abruptly by Lester's summons. Becker made a stupid comment—it sounded funnier in his head—and the friendly jokes that followed didn't seem like friendly jokes, more instead like flirting…really bad flirting.

 

Becker edged closer, noting the anguishing struggle Matt was going through. It was a stupid thing to do, because he was struggling with the same, yet he just did. It was instinct. His bare feet inched slowly across the polished gym floor and he looked down into those intense blue green eyes. He froze, he was caught by the sheer overwhelming emotion held behind those pupils and it felt like a punishment as it turned him on more. Becker ground his teeth together and tried to look away, but again was gifted by the sight of trembling, the uncontrollable twitching of the muscles in Matt's body.

 

_"Go away already, Matt. Please…I can't pretend anymore. I swear if you don't go now, you will be pinned up against that wall and I won't care that there are cameras in this gym."_

 

"I'm fine…"

 

That was all he needed to hear. Becker didn't listen to what else Matt said as he turned away and scooped up his belongings; he pushed open the swinging doors and turned down the corridor to head towards the showers.

 

Becker vaguely recalled saying something. He might have whistled as well, though nothing was making sense in his head. Why was he having strong sexual urges towards his friend? When and why had his body started to lust and crave another man?

 

He strode away, swaggering as confidently as he could as he knew that Matt was watching him, no doubt looking for signs of weakness, of those same trembling shakes he was experiencing. Becker didn't feel the confidence at all, nor did he find anything funny, but he laughed.

 

He was laughing when he got to the lockers and the joviality was quickly replaced with a self-mocking tone and it died into a groan as his bottoms finally slipped down round his ankles and he was left gazing down at his dick.

 

_"Think of something else. Anything except Matt! Don't think on him…fuck!"_

 

No matter how hard Becker tried to, he couldn't stop thinking of Matt beneath him, of being buried deep inside of him and hearing his moans and pleas for more. His mouth salivated as he imagined the taste of Matt's own, biting on his tongue…kissing, eating…swallowing.

 

"Shit!" Becker snatched the towel from his bag and ran as fast as his damned erection would allow, to the shower. Thank god no one else in the ARC was using them, so his hand snatched out and turned on the water. "FUCKING HELL!"

 

The ice cold water made him scream, but even as he stood under the spray, the low temperature did nothing to ease his swelling. A few seconds later, his whole body shivering with the cold, Becker leant against the wall and smashed his fist against it in anger. Hitting a hard tiled wall only succeeded in hurting his hand and Becker swore as he turned the temperature up.

 

"Matt…what have you done to me? What the hell is going on?"

 

The water warmed, soon steam was filling the room and Becker went through the process of washing himself. He lathered shampoo into his hair and rinsed the soap before standing beneath the shower head, mouth open and gasping as the water spilled over his face.

 

He stayed liked that for a while before he soaped down his body with the gel, running his hand across his neck, shoulders and chest. The soap trickled down over his skin but it failed to make Becker feel clean. Becker did what he could with his back and legs, but when he reached down and touched himself; his cock twitched at the light graze of his fingers and a jolt of pain shot through the entirety of his length.

 

"Oh Shit. Shit! Shit! Shit!" Becker lent his arm on the wall and flopped his head against it. There was only one thing he could do and with his left, he began to run his hand up and down his dick, the slow pumping building the pressure and inducing ecstatic spasms all over his body.

 

His eyes screwed shut…he groaned pleasurably and hissed as he thought of another's hand jerking him off. Matt. It was his body pressed against his back, his hands making Becker's legs quiver and his mouth biting and kissing his flesh.

 

Becker groaned and swore. This was ridiculous.

 

"But it feels so good…Matt!"

 

_"Oh god…what am I doing?"_

 

He felt stupid, guilty and so ashamed to be thinking of his friend like this, but his hand wouldn't stop, he instead changed the rhythm of his strokes and gripped harder…anything to bring him to orgasm sooner. Quicker…quicker…harder.

 

"Matt!" Anderson's name came from his mouth along with the gasping moan. He was almost there; he could feel the tingling behind his eyes beginning to stab like needles, his cheeks clenched together as the pressure surmounted and his legs began to buckle.

 

"Nearly there…"

 

The hand was light on his shoulder, it was barely a touch but it was enough to ruin the moment.

 

"Oh shit!" His had slipped away and punched the wall. "Matt."

 

He was there. Becker could feel his presence directly behind him, but he couldn't turn round straight away. When he did, he saw his friend through the torrent of water…naked…gloriously naked, but looking so scared.

 

His hand didn't leave, nor did Becker want it to, as he took in Matt's presence with hungry eyes. His imagination hadn't been wrong; the thirty three year old had more than an impressive physique to him, his legs were strong—Becker imagined how powerful their grip could be—though his attention was quickly drawn elsewhere. He gulped nervously and looked back to Matt's eyes. This was new for them, they were both scared but desperately didn't want to be. He saw the denial, anger and want in those blue green eyes…he could feel it in the man's hold on his shoulder.

 

The confliction in both men was only making the tension worse.

 

_"No…please Matt…this isn't right. It can't be right."_

 

Becker wanted to speak the words, explain to Matt that this couldn't and shouldn't be happening. He couldn't manage it.

 

Becker tried to speak again, but no sound came out so he backed away, stopped only by the wall behind him and by the squeeze of Matt's hand. His breath halted and stung in his lungs when suddenly he felt the warm touch of Matt's forehead press lightly against his. It took a moment, but having Matt so close…it felt anything but wrong. Becker found his breath and it no longer hurt; the water spilling over and between them now was refreshing…and the fear lessened. If only a little.

 

Matt was shaking still, so Becker didn't even think about it. His hand reached out and round, palming against the small of Matt's back before pulling him closer.

 

"Becker…"

 

His voice barely whispered, yet Becker heard the question. They were both so close now, he felt Matt graze against him and it was enough to make both of them hiss, pleasurably. Becker couldn't stand it anymore; he forced all his doubts and fears about what this was and took his hand up along Matt's spine, fisting his fingers into the short crop of wet hair and pushing his head harder against him. Their lips were close to touching.

_"Do it…"_

 

A wet palm wrapped around his cock and blissfully began to move; up from the base to the head and back down, slow movements with kneads against his scrotum, building the pressure up, igniting the hot spasms through his body. Becker's fist clenched harder in Matt's hair and then Becker moved so his mouth—his breath—was panting in Matt's ear.

 

He couldn't speak, only gasp and moan as this other man did what his own hands and his solutions to his problem could not. His legs began to shake again, his grip on Matt increased as he then slapped a hand on a perfectly shaped arse. His nails dug into Matt's flesh and he had to lean on him for support, because Becker knew his legs would give out. He was going to fall when he came.

 

"Matt!"

 

The Irishman reacted to that desperate moan of his name. His eyes closed and he pushed forwards so Becker was shoved hard against the wall. The impact of the tiles on his back made his groin jerk forward and Becker yelled when the hand working him to orgasm quickened in response. He growled and got an equal vicious sound back from Matt and so Becker entwined both his hands in Matt's hair and pulled his head sharply back and turned them round.

 

Matt slammed against the wall, but it did nothing for his grip. Matt swore loudly as Becker felt some of his hair rip between his fingers and then for another good measure he pushed Matt again and again at the wall, leaning close to that wet mouth and stubbled chin.

 

He badly wanted to feel the taste of Matt's lips with his own and at the same time felt disgusted by the thought.

 

_"What the hell are you doing?"_

 

Reality pulled him away. Those fears and doubts surfaced again and forced Becker to wrench himself away from Matt and his hands. His eyes shot open and he staggered back in a dizzying whirl as his groin screamed in agony. Matt slumped heavily onto his bottom, staring into his shaking hands before looking up at Becker, his usually stoic face was wrought with confusion. The water falling down Matt's face looked like tears.

 

"No! This-" Becker fell, preventing himself from going all the way down by clinging to the wall behind him. "I…I can't. I'm sorry Matt. This isn't us."

 

Becker hauled himself round, picked up his towel and wrapped it around his aching waist. His head was pounding, every part of his body was protesting because Matt wasn't allowed to finish. He had to get out of there.

 

"Becker?"

 

Captain Hilary Becker heard Matt's call and paused, contemplating for a brief moment, about going back. As he walked away, he heard Matt's cussing Gaelic words and the crack of a tile as a fist impacted with it.

 

He wanted to go back, he wanted to see if Matt was alright, but he kept on walking.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

"What the hell is the matter with you two?"

 

Abby didn't stand for the way Matt and Becker behaved with each other the next few days and managed to catch Becker, alone in the corridor, to give him a piece of her mind.

 

"You two have acted like teenagers and we've all had enough! Jess is so worried, Becks! She thinks that you and Matt aren't friends anymore-!"

 

"We are still friends, Abby!" Becker's grimace on his face didn't convince the blonde woman one bit. "Look…we've had some disagreements, that's all."

 

"No."

 

"No?"

 

"I've seen you and Matt have your tiffs and this is way beyond a squabble over what's best for bringing down a T-Rex. You have never allowed your conflicts to interfere with the missions or the running of the team! You two are supposed to lead by example!"

 

She was right.

 

Though how could he tell Abby, or Jess even, about what was going on between him and Matt? How could he tell her about how he feels towards Matt when he wasn't even sure about it himself? He couldn't look his friend in the eye so he attempted to walk away, but Abby caught his arm. She looked at him with deep genuine sympathy and worry, making it impossible for him to ignore. Becker shifted nervously on his feet.

 

And again, she was right to be concerned.

 

"I'll talk with him." Becker bobbed his head and offered a small smile for her. Abby's eyebrow rose and she folded her arms over her chest. "I will! I promise!"

 

"Good." Abby's hand patted his arm. When neither of them moved, Becker gave Abby a quizzical look.

 

"What? Now?"

 

"Yes now!" Abby shook her head in disbelief. "Go and talk to him."

 

"He's at home."

 

"You make that sound like it's a bad thing! Go round and make a peace offering. Take some beer…talk to him and settle those problems, Becks! For everyone's sake."

 

There was no choice in the matter.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Becker stood at the door, clutching the plastic rings that held together the last three cans of his favourite beer. He didn't know how long he had been standing there, but it was a while before he reached out to the intercom and pressed the buzzer.

 

There wasn't a reply. Becker pressed the button again and again and ten minutes later he was about to walk away when the door opened and Matt was standing at the bottom of the stairs.

 

Matt allowed a small smile to greet Becker, before the two of them continued to stand in an uncomfortable silence on the doorstep. Noticing Matt's growing impatience, Becker cleared his throat and held up the cans.

 

"I have beer."

 

Matt's smile widened and he stepped aside, allowing Becker to pass.

 

"Beer sounds good."


	3. Chapter 3

The three beers had gone down nicely between them and they’d eased the awkward silence into a relatively—but not quite—comfortable one. When Becker’s supply had finished, Matt offered up some of his own, but even then they couldn’t find anything to say. Nor could they manage to look at each other. 

 

During the long dragging hour, Becker took to gazing out at the city through the glass, his fingers tapping against the beer can and his eyes briefly looking back to Matt, who was leaning against his kitchen counter flicking the ring pull on his own can. When Becker finished one drink, Matt was instantly there with a fresh one for both of them. A slight smile or a bob of the head was the only thanks he got. 

 

One hour dragged into two, and there was now a nice little line of empty cans on Matt’s counter. Becker finished his fifth drink—Matt offered him a sixth—and he reached out for the can. Instead of touching the cool metal surface of the can, his fingers grazed Matt’s knuckles. 

 

There was a shock, a tiny static spark shot between them and it jolted Becker to his feet so quickly, the chair he had been sitting on fell flat on its back. Becker’s face burned, flushed with embarrassment and he stormed towards the stairs. 

 

“You leaving?” Matt called out, making the younger man halt at the top of the stairs. 

 

“Thanks for the beer.” 

 

“That’s it? That’s all you’re going to say?” 

 

“There’s nothing more to say.” Becker replied gruffly. There was the sound of a can being tossed into the rubbish bin from across the room. 

 

“We haven’t said anything. We need to discuss this, Becker.” 

 

Becker turned round and looked at Matt. The guy appeared so calm…as if this whole thing wasn’t bothering him in the slightest. Becker hated the fact that Matt could be so damned cool about what had happened between them. 

 

“Discuss what? I’m not…” The word caught in his throat for a moment and he gestured angrily with his finger. “I’m…I’m not gay, Matt. Never have been! What happened between us…” 

 

“What is happening between us?” Matt scowled and shook his head, before approaching Becker. “It isn’t going to go away, just because we want it to. It’s certainly not going to stop affecting our jobs until we confront it, Abby and the others rely on us to…” 

 

“Oh…so you want to talk about it?” Becker scoffed. “You want to really talk about what you were doing to me?” 

 

“Are you trying to tell me you didn’t like it and that you don’t want to try it again?” 

 

Something snapped inside Becker. “You fucking shit!” 

 

\----------------------

 

A fist swung at him and if Matt hadn’t moved, it would have caught him square on the jaw. The glancing blow caused him to stagger and instinctively, Matt brought a punch up into Becker’s stomach. Becker gasped and coughed and his feet faltered back but he didn’t relent. 

 

He swiped out again landing a successful clout to Matt’s shoulder and as his friend nearly collapsed against the counter, Becker took the opportunity to lunge. Keeping low and using all his pent up anger and frustration he tackled Matt, lifting him up and over the counter. 

 

He hadn’t expected legs and arms to wrap around him and pull him over. Matt flipped the tackle into a roll and it was Becker who landed on the floor first, heavily. He yelled in agony when the weight of the Irishman impacted with him. Becker glared up and only barely avoided a punch to his face by dodging his head to the right. Then his knee rose sharply up and into Matt’s back, as his own fist repaid the earlier stomach hit in kind. 

 

“Oh, you fuck!” Matt’s grip released and he collapsed backwards, spluttering and spitting, rolling over the cans and numerous other items that had once sat neatly on the kitchen counter. 

 

The two of them tried to get back to their feet - the clutter of the mess and the fact that they were both winded made it a struggle - but they managed it. Becker shook his head to clear his vision and clung to the counter; Matt coughed heavily a couple of times and reluctantly had to spit on his own floor. 

 

It took only a moment before he realised that Becker had approached him again and he wasn’t going to let up. Matt dodges his left hook but he couldn’t stop Becker’s right from striking at his jaw. He tasted blood in his mouth — quite a lot of it — his vision blurred from the shock, and he felt his body shaking. 

 

He yelled and grabbed Becker’s t-shirt with both hands and turned them around so he could slam Becker against the wall. Matt shoved him again and again but Becker pushed back, sending them both stumbling out from behind the counter. With a crafty hook of his foot around Becker’s leg, Matt whipped his hands up to a position where he could trip him up. 

 

Matt wished he’d seen where Becker was going to land before he did. 

 

The glass of the coffee table shattered and Becker yelled as the glass cut into his skin then his body broke the frame of the table. The pain was evident on his face. He was seething and Becker was clearly going to waste no time in getting up to make Matt pay for what he’d done. 

 

The back of his t-shirt was ripped to shreds, his back was bare, cut and bleeding from the glass and Becker was not looking happy. He swung with a fist again and Matt dodged it easily, returning one of his own. Becker ducked and Matt’s knuckles just grazed the top of his head as it flew over the top. 

 

After a few more misses, their attacks began to land. The hits were heavy, hard and brutal, releasing the anger and frustration both of them were feeling and achieving something that words couldn’t seem to express. The only sounds were the heaving grunts and yells from both. Nothing escaped damage, especially not them. 

 

\--------------------

 

Becker felt something crack in his Matt’s body when he grabbed the tattered remains of Matt’s shirt and used it to haul him up and heave him against the wall. Becker saw the blood dripping from the Irishman’s mouth and from the slight cut on his cheek. It stained Matt’s clothes and Becker’s blood caked his knuckles. 

 

Becker saw his own hands were the same as they pinned back Matt’s shoulders. He could smell the blood, he could feel how slick it was running over his skin and when he looked directly at Matt, his gut wrenched hard and a stabbing sensation jabbed in his chest. He had beaten his friend…he hurt him. 

 

Becker looked at the injuries he’d inflicted. Matt was panting to regain his breath and he looked terrible, but Becker suddenly felt extremely turned on. The fight had aroused both of them into such a state that talking about their feelings, doubts and fears wasn’t necessary. Becker was now so pumped up and riled that he knew that he had to go through it. 

 

_“Do it…”_

 

He leaned in closer to Matt, his breath still deep and uneven from the fight, and loosened his grip on his shirt. Although he could see Matt was eager for him to make the next move, Becker wasn’t even sure exactly what he was going to do, but only that he had to it. 

 

It was instant…his tongue lashed out and caught a trail of blood falling down Matt’s neck. Becker lapped it up hungrily to Matt’s chin, where his lips then sucked at Matt’s skin before enveloping his mouth. He saw Matt’s eyes widen in alarm and his body stiffened, but when Becker reached up and fisted in his fingers in Matt’s hair, he repaid in kind. Matt kissed him back and shoved away from the wall with a strong push. 

 

He couldn’t think. Becker couldn’t register anything else other than Matt, the taste of his blood in his mouth and the feel of his hands that now ripped desperately at his hair. Never had anyone made him feel so powerful, so enraged and so damned hard. 

 

A surge of adrenalin seemed to soar through him; he kissed Matt hungrily and Matt did the same back. As his hands fell from Matt’s head to his back, Becker steered them through the mess on the floor, holding onto Matt so tightly his nails were digging into skin. Matt hissed at the slight sting they caused and bit down on Becker’s tongue. 

 

“You bastard!” Becker gasped, as he pulled sharply out of the kiss. 

 

“Stop whining and shut up!” 

 

Becker found himself smiling. He met Matt’s gaze and saw that cheeky fiendish grin on his bloodied face. 

 

_“Smug git.”_ he thought jokingly, before crushing his mouth against Matt’s again in a much more powerful kiss. Whilst he pulled the remains of Matt’s shirt off his back, Becker pushed them to the end of the apartment where the bed was. 

 

As soon as the back of Matt’s knees touched the bed, Becker stopped the kiss and pushed the other man down. He grinned and then whipped the shreds of his t-shirt off and proceeded to unbuckle his belt and trousers. Becker wanted this… he wanted to carry on and do this with the man sprawled on the bed. He needed to. Every part of his body was yelling at him to continue and it wasn’t giving him a choice. 

 

As he undressed, urgently and quickly, with his body telling him to _Get a fucking move on!_ Matt was doing the same, wincing and groaning as all the injuries they’d acquired from their foreplay made it more difficult, but no less urgent. 

 

It wasn’t weird or creepy any more. The fear they had felt in the showers was non-existent. Becker looked at Matt as they both stripped and saw the scars, combined with the new bruises and cuts on his body, and knew that he must have him here and now. Becker was throbbing, he was so hard that it was painful to pull his boxers off. Every part of him needed to have relief and release, but not from anyone other than Matt. Naked, Becker knelt on the edge of the bed, slipped Matt’s trousers off the end of his feet and dropped them to the floor. 

 

He wiped his hand over his face, his blood and sweat smeared across his skin but that didn’t matter. His heart was pumping faster now, his breath came in deep pants and his mouth was salivating as he saw that same primal look on Matt’s face. 

 

Matt was glorious naked, though Becker never thought he would think that about another man. Dragging his eyes over Matt’s paler, muscled flesh, his hand followed; he grabbed at Matt’s neck and rubbed his thumb over the blood smeared over his throat, before trailing his hand down through the hair on his chest, down over his stomach, his pelvis and legs. The contours were amazingly different beneath his hand, so different from the softer curves of a woman. There was power… strength in this body, and this was what would calm him, sate the lust their fight had built up. 

 

Without wasting any more time, Becker stroked his palm across Matt’s abdomen, raked his fingers through the light hair on his scrotum and took hold. Like Matt had done for him in the showers, Becker began to pump the other man’s cock, making slow movements with his hand as he moved himself level with Matt. 

 

Becker smirked as Matt’s eyes fluttered closed and his mouth dropped open. Matt’s hand shot up and grabbed the back of Becker’s head, his fingers curling and pulling in time with the jerks on his erection. His moans made an excited rush sweep through Becker’s body and even when he quickened the pace, it only made his dick ache more. 

 

Becker snarled and let go. 

 

“What the--?” 

 

“Stop whining, Anderson,” Becker joked, getting to his knees and positioning Matt’s legs round either side of his hips. “And shut up.” 

 

“Fine! Just…here!” Matt clearly knew what Becker intended and he had an easy reach to the small cabinet next to the bed. He opened the drawer and fumbled inside, and then lobbed a condom packet at Becker. It hit him in the face and dropped into his hands. 

 

Becker tore it open and quickly put it on. The coolness of the lube barely did anything to dampen his arousal, but he leaned back, angling himself and stared down into Matt’s eyes.

 

There was no waiting, no murmurs or talk of ‘going too fast’ or ‘I’m not ready.’ There were no comforting words of caution or sweet whispers in each others’ ears, because neither of them wanted that. Such affection wouldn’t have felt right. Not yet. 

 

Keeping his weight slightly off Matt with one hand, Becker used his left to hold his cock, and placed it perfectly at Matt’s entrance. He counted quickly under his breath to two and then he began to push. 

 

“Holy fucking hell!” 

 

Becker felt Matt’s whole body tense and he saw his skin reddened at the pain coursing through his body. A heavy sweat began to pour off him as Becker pushed deeper and deeper and Becker himself was taken aback by how tight Matt was around him. He thought he might spend himself right there. 

 

He collapsed onto top of Matt, laid his gasping face in the nook of Matt’s neck and pressed his shaking hands onto Matt’s chest, feeling the man’s slick hot skin. After some hard, gagging breaths, he continued to push with his hips, even though the pressure felt as if it was going to kill him. 

 

Matt was so tense that with Becker’s girth inside him, it could only be making his pain worse, but Becker hoped the pleasure combined with the pain would be just as intense. Matt’s breath hissed through his clenched teeth, his legs spasmed and his hands dug hard into Becker’s already cut up back, drawing blood and causing Becker to gouge a bite into his shoulder. 

 

Becker snarled at the pain and slowly pulled himself partly out, making Matt scream every swear word under the sun, including Gaelic ones. Eventually, Matt was able to relax a little and Becker found it easier to push back in and get a fluid movement going. 

 

Matt managed to settle into the rhythm and pulled Becker’s head down so he could plant their mouths together. He yelled all his screams of pleasure and pain into the kiss, but as Becker’s relentless pounding into Matt’s body grew harder, so too did the kiss. They eventually needed air but as their lips ripped apart, a hefty jolt into his arse forced a scream from Matt. 

 

\-----------------

 

This was not what he was used to, sex wasn’t ever this intense for either of them, but Matt was caught between the two sensations, loving both the searing pain and the ecstasy as it increased with every rapid push from Becker. His arms wound around Becker’s body and he held on, for more. 

 

After a while — he didn’t know how long — Matt’s eyes began to blur and his breathing quickened to short, shallow pants and everything around him began to shake, or was that him? He didn’t know about time or anything other than what Becker was doing to him, the ecstasy he was pounding into his body. 

 

The pressure within him grew and exploded. Matt’s throat burned through his yells when he came and he let go of Becker, now limp, exhausted, pained and pleasured. He lay, one arm flopped over his eyes and the other rubbing contentedly at the wetness over his stomach, as Becker still moved inside him. 

 

Matt did what he could for Becker, but even after being spent, the soldier’s movements pleasured him that he could hardly move. Then Becker kept stopping, lost in rhythm until he wrapped his arms around Matt and his own body stiffened. A string of softly whispered expletives came from his mouth before he collapsed. 

 

Becker was shaking as well and for a moment the two of them lay there coiled in each others’ legs and arms until they settled, almost to the point of dozing off. But then Becker slipped over onto his back. 

 

“You bastard!” Matt groaned. His arm rose up and whacked Becker across the face. 

 

“What?” Becker rolled onto his front and the pillow muffled his mocking response and his laughter. 

 

“You wait ‘til it’s your turn!” 

 

“Bring it on!” 

 

\--------------

 

The sun was beginning to come up. In this apartment, surrounded by glass, the light of yellows and oranges came in everywhere and there was no place to hide. Becker saw the colours intruding before his eyes even opened and when they did, he snapped them closed and pulled the duvet back over his head. When that didn’t work, he moaned like a little boy who had been told he had to get up and go to school. 

 

He flipped the duvet back and tried to accustom himself to the morning sun. He hated it, because the sun had woken him before he was ready and now that he was conscious… he had to move. 

 

Becker peered up the other end of the bed and saw that Matt was still asleep. There was no way he was going to be able to get up without waking him, as the Irishman was sprawled across Becker’s groin, his head comfortably resting on a pillow. His arms were angled out above his head and every so often Becker saw his fingers twitch, no doubt unconsciously remembering what they had done to him a good few hours ago. 

 

Becker turned from his back to his side and failed miserably from not waking Matt up. Matt groaned and then a few seconds later his head rose a couple of inches from the pillow. 

 

“You’re still here, then?” His Northern Irish accent seemed heavier when combined with morning fatigue. Matt let out a yawn and shifted a little so Becker could move. The men were suffering from the fight, their injuries were now hurting ten times more and certain other places were feeling extremely tender as well. 

 

“Charming.” Becker winced as he sat up and checked the various and quite deep bite marks down each of his sides. “Have you ever thought of getting blinds for this place?” 

 

“Not really.” Matt shrugged his shoulders and then ruffled his damp, sweaty hair before yawning again. 

 

“Try it, Matt,” Becker suggested as he picked up a pair of jeans and then lobbed them straight at the other man’s head. “It’ll do wonders.” 

 

“Worried about people seeing what we’re up to?” Matt laughed, lying on his back and propping his hands behind his head. “If you are, I’d suggest you put some clothes on if you’re going to wander around.” 

 

“I would…” The irritation sounded in Becker’s voice, “If I could find what’s left of them!” 

 

“You’d find ‘em more easily if you didn’t wreck other people’s apartments.” 

 

“Hey… I’m not the only one to blame here!” 

 

“You started it!” 

 

“Oh, don’t start that shit again!” 

 

Matt’s laughter signaled the end of the conversation and Becker was allowed to look for the remainder of his clothes. He didn’t really care that much that he was strolling round a wrecked apartment completely naked… in fact, as he searched through the debris, Becker finally realised just how great he did feel, despite the soreness from his physical injuries. 

 

He felt good. Happy. For the first time in weeks, he felt stress free and so at ease that he began to grin as he strolled around the place. It was because of that bloody Irishman lounging on the bed, it was that often stoic, annoying, funny… yeah good-looking… bloke that was making Becker beam more than the sun that had woken him up this morning. He couldn’t believe how scared and fearful he’d been at first just because Matt was a guy. 

 

Peering around the wall, Becker watched Matt as he sat up and shuffled to the end of the bed. 

 

Matt didn’t look as happy as Becker was, something was clearly occupying his thoughts and worrying him. Was it the whole, they were both men aspect and because they worked together so this new relationship could make things complicated at the ARC? Becker thought about asking him and was about to go and ‘talk’ in the normal manner, like most people do, but he stopped when he saw the other man drop his head in his hands and shake. 

 

Something was really bothering him and the fact that Matt was maybe having doubts about the two of them, made Becker feel the same. 

 

“Matt…are you all right?” He asked. 

 

Matt sat bolt upright and ran his hands over his face. 

 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just knackered and bit sore… that’s all.” 

 

“You sure?” 

 

“Yeah! I’m fine!” Matt smiled, but Becker knew it wasn’t one of his genuine ones. He was worried and hiding something troubling. “Will you stop fussing and put the kettle on?” Matt demanded. “I could really use a cup of coffee right now.” 

 

“Sure.” 

 

Becker walked away, not wanting to think negatively about this new stage in their relationship. He immediately found his own jeans, flung over one of the cabinets… which was strange as he remembered just dropping them by the bed. He slipped them on and the jeans tugged a little too tightly at his tender areas, so he walked to the kitchen bar very cautiously. 

 

“Looks like coffee is off the menu,” he said as he saw the state of kitchen. “Your kettle is ruined, the coffee is all over the floor and we’ve got nothing to drink it from. In fact, as most of your plates and bowls are broken as well, I’d say breakfast is cancelled.” 

 

“I’d best get in the shower then.” Matt appeared and strolled casually past, stretching and yawning and as he did so. 

 

In the space of a few minutes, a huge change had come over Matt. He walked through his apartment casually and confidently and to Becker it seemed like he didn’t have any worries or doubts at all. What he’d seen a moment ago was a man who deeply regretted something he’d done and was afraid for something or someone, but now Matt appeared to be happy. He was smiling and walking with that slight swagger that Becker liked so much, in fact Becker was extremely tempted to smack a heavy palm against that swaying arse of his. 

 

“I’ll get something to eat on my way into the ARC,” Matt half-spoke and half-yawned, as he stretched his body before getting to the stairs. 

 

“What about me?” 

 

“You?” Matt walked halfway down to the next level and paused. “You can join me if you want.” 

 

The most fiendish grin spread across Becker’s face. 

 

“Do you mean the shower or the breakfast?” he asked leaning over the banister. 

 

“What do you think?” 

 

Becker walked down the stairs and slowly began to unbutton the jeans. Well, they hadn’t stayed on for long. 

 

\--------------------------

 

_“Thanks so much for staying to help me tidy up (!) I’ll meet you in the ARC later. Make some excuse why I’m not there.”_

 

Matt smiled at the text and began to send one in reply to Becker as he walked towards the Ops room. He was amazed by how easy and comfortable this new relationship felt, or rather how at ease he was with Becker. It was like before, with all the teasing and joking but with the added bonus of amazing—if a little painful—sex as well. 

 

But Matt wasn’t completely at ease. He had gone against his father’s orders and got close to someone from this time… again. Matt had faltered, lost concentration when he should have been focusing on his mission. The anomalies were being screwed with and the whole of humanity’s fate depended on Matt to do the right thing. He couldn’t be distracted now… even if it did feel great. 

 

The smile vanished after he sent the text message back. He shouldn’t be having a relationship with anyone, it was why he’d had to let Emily go — _oh gods, Emily_ — he had to do the same with Becker. They had to remain professional. 

 

“I’ve just read your report on the Danny Quinn situation.” 

 

Matt looked up from his phone. Standing in the middle of the corridor was the one man he really didn’t want to bump into today. The CEO of Prospero was there, with his hands in his pockets and looking at Matt with a condescending gaze. 

 

Philip Burton was his main suspect. If there was anyone who would try to interfere with the anomalies and Convergence, then it was this arrogant man standing before him. Matt and his father had gathered years of intel and now their hard work was paying off. 

 

He had to concentrate. 

 

Don’t think of Emily…or Becker. Do what you came here for. 

 

Connor is the key. 

 

\---------------------

 

Becker saw the couple embrace and kiss, and as he crouched down next to the bin a small part of him wished he could have done the same with Matt. They exchanged glances and Becker settled for something just as meaningful to them both. 

 

“Next time, run quicker!” he panted. 

 

“It’s nice to see you too, mate,” Matt said, looking round at the devastation Becker’s explosives had created. “The creatures?” 

 

“All dead.” 

 

Matt crouched down next to Becker and he received a friendly pat on his chest. 

 

“Nice work.” 

 

Was that all he could think of saying? He had been frantic with worry when they came down after the explosion. Becker had actually thought he was going to have a panic attack because he couldn’t bear the thought of Matt and Connor lying dead somewhere. He had set off the explosives and if they hadn’t found the rubbish bin, he would have been responsible for their deaths. ‘Nice work’ may have been what he’d actually said, but his face showed Matt everything he was thinking. So did the smile that Matt returned to him. 

 

_“Hey...I’m okay. We’re okay. Besides you can’t get rid of me that easily.”_

 

Becker reached out and instead of whacking a friendly and affectionate smack against Matt’s face, he squeezed his shoulder and then rose to his feet to help Connor. 

 

The ride back to the ARC was eventless. Abby and Connor sat in the back, sitting close and holding each other whilst Becker drove. 

 

Today had been a good day, especially with how it had started. A new daunting and exciting stage in a relationship had begun, he’d got to use live ammunition and real weapons on the burrowing creatures and no one had died on his watch… especially not Matt. The day would have been made absolutely perfect if Lester had let him have the tank. 

 

When they got back, Abby and Connor rushed off into the building, leaving the two men to haul away the equipment. It was a silent process… but the two of them couldn’t stop exchanging meaningful looks, smiles and stupid faces. 

 

“What?” Becker finally asked when the last of the guns were locked securely away. He had sensed Matt was staring at him, and this time he wasn’t pulling a stupid grin. 

 

“Just thinking.” 

 

“That’s dangerous, isn’t it?” 

 

They both sniggered. 

 

“No… I mean… today. Last night…this morning…what we…” 

 

“Oh god, are you going to get teary-eyed on me, Matt? I’m not hugging you, we made that clear. No hugging.” 

 

“No.I wouldn’t do that.” Matt sighed. “I meant that after everything that happened, we still worked well. It didn’t feel awkward. Did it?” 

 

“No,it was far from awkward. It was right, good… except for the‘me thinking you’d died’ part, just now.” Becker and Matt began to walk side by side towards Ops. “I’m telling you, Matt, you pull something like that again without informing me, I swear I will…” 

 

He couldn’t keep a straight face, not when Matt’s eyebrow raised in question and an eager smile curled his lips slightly. 

 

“You will what?” he asked hopefully. 

 

“Oh don’t! Don’t get any ideas!” 

 

“I’m sayin’ nothing!” 

 

“But you’re thinking it!” 

 

“Sure. I’m thinking all kinds of things right now.” 

 

“Git.” 

 

“Don’t blame me…you’re the one who put it in there.” 

 

“Bad choice of words, Matt.” 

 

“It’s your gutter mind.” 

 

They laughed and the rest of the conversation played out like telepathy between them, emphasised with knowing glances and sly smiles. They couldn’t stop sniggering and grinning like school boys even when they got to Ops. As they came down the stairs, Matt unclipped his black box from his belt and handed it Becker who took both of their boxes up to Jess. He really couldn’t stop smiling. 

 

“You’re in a good mood,” said Jess, taking the boxes and putting them back in their charger cases. He nodded. “I’m so pleased…you and Matt have been insufferable bores this past week. It’s great you two aren’t fighting anymore.” 

 

“Sorry, we’ve been a couple of arseholes, Jess.” 

 

Jess flapped a dismissive hand. 

 

“No apologies necessary. Just don’t fall out with Matt again. Got it?” 

 

“Got it.” 

 

Becker’s smile dropped a little. He knew that sooner or later he would have to talk to her, but he wasn’t ready. The thought of breaking her heart and upsetting her was horrible to contemplate, and until he was certain in his mind what he and Matt actually were, then he wasn’t going to say a thing. 

 

He did love Jess, Becker knew that, however, it was not in the same way that she saw him. It could never be in the same way. 

 

Becker forced the smile wider, just for her and walked away before she could engage him in any more conversation. He didn’t want complications now, even though they were there, like anomalies, popping up when you didn’t want them. He didn’t want to deal with the problems he knew they’d have to face or Matt’s own issues. 

 

It shouldn’t be like this. 

 

\----------------------

 

Unfortunately, a complication arose that neither of them could ignore. 

 

Becker had gone away for a few days, to celebrate his birthday with his family. Upon his return, he went to see Matt and found him standing out on the balcony, in the freezing cold, wearing only his jeans and glaring at a piece of paper. 

 

“Hey.” 

 

“Hey.” 

 

“Are you all right or is your electric bill really that bad?” 

 

Matt didn’t say anything, he just handed the paper to Becker and instantly Becker understood. The newspaper article on the bottom right hand side explained everything. 

 

“So that’s what happened to her.” Becker leaned on the railing next to Matt and the two of them looked out over the city. “I had wondered myself.” 

 

“Really?” 

 

“I may not have got on as well as you did with her, but Emily was strong, Matt. She could handle herself against creatures and she had been travelling through anomalies to different eras for years. A mental institute wouldn’t hold her, no way.” 

 

“I should never have allowed her to go back.” 

 

“You can’t say for definite that she died in that place. You don’t know.” 

 

“And you can’t say that she didn’t,” Matt sombrely replied. 

 

“You miss her. It’s understandable, but I don’t believe that Emily Merchant would have died in there. You knew her…so you shouldn’t believe it either.” 

 

Matt shook his head and then walked inside. He went behind the kitchen counter and took a single beer can out of his fridge. He placed it on the kitchen top but then just stared at it. It remained untouched. 

 

He was torn up. He was racked with guilt—and had been since that day— the day that he had sent Emily back. She might have died alone in that place. Matt saw the way Becker was looking at him, sympathy combined with worry and fear; and he didn’t blame him. Here he was thinking about a woman from the past—there was nothing he could do for her—in front of the man who he was certain he was getting feelings for. 

 

What must Becker be thinking? 

 

“Got any more beers?” 

 

Matt had to laugh. Trust Becker to make situations better. 

 

“Sure.” 

 

\--------------------

 

Becker saw the long dark ringlets of hair first, framing a pale beautiful face. A body swathed in black came through the anomaly and then collapsed. 

 

“Matt! I’m shot!” 

 

Panic rose in his chest. 

 

_No. No! Emily, don’t die! You can’t! Not now! Not like this!_

 

“I’ll get the medical kit!” he cried, lowering his weapon and running back to the kit bag propped against the pillar. He fumbled at the bag, his hands were shaking but then he heard Matt’s voice behind him. 

 

“There’s no blood. There’s no blood!” 

 

Becker jumped to his feet and rushed over to where Matt was cradling Emily in his arms. He stood over them and saw the look of joy and relief upon their faces. He smiled, relieved that Emily was okay, but the smile became bitter-sweet as he watched Matt holding her so intimately. It was something that he and Matt had never shared. 

 

“There’s no wound. Your outfit saved you.” 

 

Then everything happened in an instant. Becker had been distracted by the closeness Matt and Emily were sharing that he didn’t see the other man come through until it was too late. He saw the gun pointing at Matt and felt a sickening knot twist inside him. 

 

Keeping as calm as possible, he aimed his EMD rifle directly at the man. Henry Merchant jabbed the pistol into Matt’s neck and snarled down at his wife on the floor, “Get to your feet, woman. Now! Or your lover dies!” 

 

The strange booming sounds of the art exhibition were activated, scaring the Victorian man, putting him even more on edge. 

 

Emily rose defiantly to her feet and blocked Becker’s line of fire. She heard his disapproval and looked back at him with a small smile. She knew what she was doing. He marveled at how she then tried to calm Henry down, her pleas confident and calm, even if she was just like Becker on the inside; afraid for Matt, afraid that the pistol would go off. 

 

“Henry, put the gun down. Please. No one here means you any harm.” 

 

Becker saw the raptor wake up. Its head twitched and then its feet, and it began to rise up. His line of fire was still blocked. 

 

“Look out behind you!” he yelled, pushing Emily back and away. Matt managed to take advantage of Henry’s loosened grip and ripped himself free, but Merchant only became more frantic and pointed the gun at Becker. 

 

“Stop! Stay where you are!” 

 

Becker wanted to yell at him to move, to tell him to run just as Matt had done, but the raptor was quick. It leapt up from the floor and its jaws latched onto the man’s neck, ripping and tearing his flesh within seconds. Becker saw the body fall to the floor and the raptor was now looking back at him. 

 

No more running this time. 

 

Becker opened fire again and again. The shock pulses rendered the raptor limp and unconscious on the floor, but it didn’t make him feel any better. If only he’d had his shotgun. 

 

Becker checked Merchant’s corpse and stated the obvious for the benefit of other two behind him. “He’s dead.” 

 

Emily stared at the body of her husband with Matt touching her shoulders for comfort, but Becker could see she wasn’t about to break. This was a man she hadn’t loved, a man she wouldn’t miss, but she’d never wanted him to die this way. For a moment, Emily just stood there staring, but then she turned to face Matt and embraced him with a strong, crushing hug. 

 

Becker stood by the raptor and tried to look anywhere except at the couple still locked in a tight embrace. Emily was back now and that meant Matt wouldn’t want anything to do with him anymore. He’d got back what he’d thought he had lost and Becker had no place any more. 

 

The jealous anger began to boil inside him. He didn’t want to be here. 

 

Becker took hold of his radio and pressed the button. 

 

“Greaves, Lewis…come and deal with this bloody raptor. Now.” 

 

_“Yes, sir! We’re on our way.”_

 

With the affirmative confirmed, Becker began to storm out of the room but not quite fast enough. 

 

“Captain.” 

 

Emily’s formal mode of address made him stop. He turned around, his arm was gripped tightly and he was pulled hard. Two strong arms coiled around his body and squeezed, the words “Thank you” were murmured against his chest. Becker hugged her back and Emily’s curls brushed against his face. He breathed in deeply, inhaling a light lavender scent. 

 

“Becker.” 

 

He had closed his eyes in that moment, relishing the feel of a woman in his arms, even if it was only for comfort. The mention of his name made him open them and he saw Matt beside him. Matt’s hand was on his shoulder. 

 

“Thank you.” 

 

Becker gave him a quick, sharp nod of the head in response and went to break out of their grasp. They needed to be on their own… needed to have time to themselves now that they had found each other again. 

 

“Becker!” 

 

“I…I have to go… someone needs to fill out a report for Lester.” 

 

“I’d much rather you join us for a beer.” 

 

Becker couldn’t help but smile. 

 

“We’re in serious danger of becoming alcoholics, you do realise that, right?” 

 

“Is that a yes then?” 

 

Yes. Becker could allow himself one last beer. Just one.


End file.
